


wearing nothing but clothes

by aniloquent



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Sweaters, a good Pure shit, but basically same thing I guess idk, i mean ship, sam not being confident in himself, steve loving on sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:36:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloquent/pseuds/aniloquent
Summary: Who would have thought that America’s beloved World War II hero was a cuddler?-Based on the Tumblr prompt “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”





	wearing nothing but clothes

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I thought of when I was scrolling through tumblr, and this prompt is just so cute and pure and so SamSteve that I couldn't resist! Enjoy!
> 
> (btw, I have some more Stucky, SamBucky, and ot3 stuff on the way for those of you that read my other work)
> 
> Come talk to me at hit-that-stucky.tumblr.com if you want :)

Sam groans as he hears Steve’s annoying alarm go off on the small bedside table.

Shit. He has work.

He cracks one eye open to glare at Steve’s phone screen, which has started to flash annoyingly, too. Sam feels a flitting feeling of annoyance towards the man currently spooning him, but that fades into half-assed guilt. He was the one that made Steve set the alarm after their intense post-coitus session when Sam could hardly keep his eyes open.

Sex with Steve could do that to a person.

Sam is about to move to get it when he feels the mattress creak behind him. Suddenly, there's a warm back on top of his as Steve’s arm leans across him to seize the intruding phone. Sam relishes in the tightening of Steve’s bicep as he maneuvers the damn alarm off. The room is finally quiet again, and Sam sighs contentedly as Steve drops his arm around Sam’s waist and pulls him closer into his chest. His ab muscles go pliant as Steve draws circles on his stomach aimlessly.

Who would have thought that America’s beloved World War II hero was a cuddler?

“Do you have to go?” Steve mumbles into the back of his neck as he presses butterfly kisses there. Sam shudders and tries not to grind his hips backwards. He really doesn’t have the time to start anything.

“Afraid so,” he mutters, but makes no move to get up. Steve’s vice-like grip doesn’t weaken. Sam doesn’t mind. “I have work in an hour, and I need to go over today’s topics before I get there.”

Steve hums against his skin, unfazed. Sam bites back a moan at the half-hard erection pressing into the small of his back. God dammit, Steve. “Call in sick. I’ll make it up to you.”

Sam snorts, trying to take a breath and calm himself down. “I don’t doubt that, but if I don’t leave now I’ll never get up.”

He feels the cocky grin on Steve’s lips for a fraction of a moment before he’s being turned onto his back with two hundred pounds of super soldier hovering over him. Sam gasps as Steve presses their fronts together and nips at his ear. Fucking hell. Steve already knows his body too well. “I’ll be quick,” Steve promises, and Sam knows he would, but he can’t allow himself that luxury.

Steve had shown up at his door a week after Sam had woken up to an empty bed and no note with an intimidatingly pretty redhead. He was confused and hurt, and Steve had spent the next two weeks after the whole Barnes situation looking for ways to make it up to him. Eventually, Sam had kissed Steve out of frustration in the middle of one of his martyr speeches, and they’d begun an athletic sexy life together.

Still, Sam didn’t want to get close enough to get his feelings hurt. Steve was Captain America, and more importantly, a man on the run. Sam was too caught up with fucking Steve to make sure he was going to stick around, and no time every felt right.

He reluctantly puts a hand on Steve’s solid chest and pushes lightly. Steve complies, even though they both know it’s more of Steve’s willingness to move than Sam actually forcing him backwards. He avoids eye contact with Steve, careful not to meet his confused frown as they both get out of bed and redress.

“I can come back over after work if you want,” Sam calls out as Steve steps into a pair of shorts. He frowns at the two shirts on the floor. He can’t remember which color he was wearing when he came over here. “I’m off tomorrow.” He doesn’t register the incredulous look on Steve’s face as he picks up the black one, neglecting the navy piece on Steve’s hardwood. He grins. “Then we can take it as slow as we want.”

“Sam,” Steve squeaks, and Sam can’t help but cast him an amused glance as he pulls the sweater over his head.

“Something wrong, Captain?” Sam says, half listening as he searches the room for his watch.

“Your shirt- or uh,” Sam looks up to find Steve turning pink as he rubs the back of his neck. “My shirt, actually.”

And, oh.

Sam glances down to find the material hanging loosely on his chest and arms, and it smells like the body wash and aftershave sitting on Steve’s bathroom counter. This is exactly what he had been trying to avoid, and now both of them were uncomfortable. He feels a little sheepish now, considering he’s obviously made Steve uncomfortable by assuming they were well-acquainted enough for Sam to wear his clothes…

…but Sam would be lying if he said he wanted to take it off.

Still, Sam can’t bring himself to be selfish. “Right, sorry,” he says slowly, and goes to take it off. “I’ll get my own-”

“No! Sam.” Steve interrupts, and his hands are pressing the soft fabric into Sam’s skin as he holds it against his hips. “Wear it.” His eyes drag down Sam’s face, to his chest, and across his arms, and Sam feels his face go warm.

Sam raises his eyebrows, though, because he’s a combative little shit. “Your initial reaction said something else, pal.”

Steve meets Sam’s eyes with the same look, teasing and anticipatory, and bites his lip. He’s quiet, then shrugs. “I wasn't expecting it, is all,” he drawls, and Sam feels heat in the pit of his despite Steve’s light tone. “I like you wearing my clothes.”

If Sam hadn’t spent the last month in bed with America’s sweetheart, the sincerity of that sentence would have been endearing. But now, look up at Steve, and seeing how his eyes have clouded over, Sam knows that Steve isn’t lying when he says the sweater is doing something to him.

Steve’s desire must be contagious, because Sam finds himself surging up to kiss Steve feverishly. Steve bites at his lip and pulls Sam closer to him, walking them backwards to the bed. Sam falls back first, and he can’t contain the giddy smile as Steve climbs over him.

“Five minutes,” Steve breathes into Sam’s ear, and he’s already reaching for the zipper on his jeans.

Sam makes a mental note to take a few more sweaters on his way out. 


End file.
